


Two Weeks

by A_tiny_star_prince



Series: Don't worry, we don't die! [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Blood and Injury, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Needs a Hug, Dead Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Logic | Logan Sanders Needs a Hug, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Other, Swords, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, im so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_tiny_star_prince/pseuds/A_tiny_star_prince
Summary: The two weeks it took for Roman to wake, and the results.~~~Dedicated to user M4R4N14MH, who decided to leave a long comment that utterly made my entire day and whose ideas sparked the fire inside of me I use as fuel for my angst machine.You dear, are my new muse.(read "Day 5: Blade" for context)
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Everyone, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Don't worry, we don't die! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188155
Comments: 26
Kudos: 38





	1. Mourning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [M4R4N14MH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M4R4N14MH/gifts).



> Well then... someone gave me ideas, so here I am. Enjoy the show everyone. 
> 
> Tw: this will mention roman's death again. You have been warned.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how it started.

There was a sword in Roman’s head. 

It stuck out of his skull, and the blood was dripping down his freckled skin, and Logan- 

Logan couldn’t breath. 

““That’s inconvenient,” Roman murmured, and Logan could have screamed, if his voice was working. 

Then Roman started to fall, and time caught up, because Remus was suddenly  _ there _ and catching the body- and Logan felt himself running before he saw it, mouth moving rapidly. No sound reached his ears, but he grasped for something, anything- his fingers caught Roman’s hands and he held on. 

His eyes stared at the others face, half open eyes, blood- blood everywhere, saturating the dirt and his clothes, he felt it on his hands- sticky and warm and dark. He stared at his face, then something fell onto Roman’s skin- water, a raindrop? No, tears, the coolness rolling down his cheeks. 

“Roman, Roman! Roman-” Logan found his voice, desperation as reality settled in. “Stay with me, please Roman, please-” A sob tearing through his chest and clogging his throat up like mud. 

Roman smiled- how could he be smiling- and opened his mouth, lips red with blood. “Hey… hey… it's okay Lo…” he murmured, voice weak and rasping. He chuckled, and Logan felt more tears roll down his cheeks, vision wavering. 

“How- how can you  _ say _ that, y-you’re dying-” Logan sobbed, shaking his head as he cried, tears dripping onto the others' faces. “Y-you-” 

Roman smiled, looking up at Logan. “We don’t die, Lo-Lo,” the prince murmured, and then his eyes closed- and Logan screamed. 

Logan grasped at the others face, eyes wide and tear-filled, Remus falling back as Logan knelt over Roman’s body. “No, no, no, Roman- Roman please, no-” he begged, breath coming short- he couldn’t breath, this couldn’t be real-

He bowed over Romans form and sobbed, his cries filling the air in screams of sorrow, he clawed at the others chest- and then suddenly his fingers missed. Logan sucked in a breath and looked up, tears covering his cheeks as he watched Roman’s body begin to fade. 

“No,” Logan breathed. “No- no, you can’t-” he gasped, hands clinging to Roman’s disappearing form. “No,no, no-no! You can’t take him, you can’t- you-  _ you can’t _ -” 

Roman’s body disappeared and the silenced pierced Logan’s chest. An empty sensation filled his body, as he stared at the empty space that once held the body of his- of Roman, and now all that was left was the bloody sword and the red ground. 

Logan’s vision wavered, blood smeared hands reaching forward to touch the space, unable to believe what had just happened. A ringing filled his ears, and Logan felt his world crash around him in a symphony of screams. 

It was only when he registered his sore throat did he realize they were his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preview: "Let me get you..."


	2. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was never this quiet. There was always something, some background noise-

He didn’t remember when, but they had ended up in the living room sometime after the _incident_. He was sitting on the couch, staring at the carpet, but he wasn’t sure why. His hands were sticky. So was his face. 

“Logie?” Logan looked up, eyes blank like slates. 

Patton was kneeling in front of him, his soft smile only slightly strained. “I have a cloth for your hands, kiddo,” he murmured softly, and Logan nodded silently. “Can I clean your hands up?” Patton asked. Another nod. 

Patton smiled, and began to clean off the blood. Logan watched him, staring at the orangish-red soaking into the warm washcloth. He blinked, glancing up, staring at a small crack that had formed on Patton's cheek. 

“...You’re cracking,” Logan whispered, voice dry. 

Patton’s movement’s stuttered. He smiled, swallowing a little. “Only a bit kiddo,” he said softly. “It’s fine,” he grinned, leaning back. “Let me get you some cocoa,” he hummed, and disappeared before Logan had time to reply. 

Logan swallowed, staring at his hands. There was dirt under his fingernails. And blood. He stared at the caked mess under his nails, nails with chipped blue polish on them, nails with dirt and blood- _his_ blood- under them- 

And nothing. 

He felt nothing. 

A hollowness encased his chest, wrapping it’s tendrils around his lungs, and white noise rang in his ears, crashing into his head, waves onto the shore-filling his head and his senses with blurring motion- nothing but static and waves and-

Patton was back, pressing a cup of something warm into his hands. Logan blinked, staring down at the swirling brown liquid. It smelled like mint. He took a small sip, and looked up for the first time in… had it been hours? He didn’t know. 

He didn’t know anything. 

Patton flitted from room to room, the noise an attempt to fill the quiet laying ever so heavily on them all. Across from him was Remus, his morning-star dangling between his fingers. His hair hung in front of his face, casting shadows onto his face, streaks of dark purple eyeshadow caked onto his cheeks. There was something dark and matted in the strands, dying the grey streak a coppery sort of brown. A mug sat beside him on the coffee table. 

Virgil was sitting to Logan’s right, cradling a purple mug of warm drink in his sleeve-covered hands. He stared at nothing, hood drawn up and hair messily scattered over his brow. He too had streaks of makeup down his cheeks, though his eyes looked small and dull compared to the dark black shadows under and around them. A blanket was settled atop him, weighted, probably to help with the anxiety Virgil was surely feeling, though he looked to all the world like a statue. 

Beside him was Janus, who sat leaning forward, elbows on knees. His hands were pressed together, and a third held a yellow mug. He stared hard, thinking. His hat was gone, replaced by messy brown curls and fading purple dye. 

Logan looked back down at his cup. The silence pressed on, the only sound being the clattering of dishes in the sink, as Patton washed them again and again; no doubt till his hands were pruned and red and smelled of soap for hours. 

Logan wondered why it was so quiet. It was never this quiet. There was always something, some background noise- music wafting down the hallway and the stairs to breeze through the living room, floating from an open door. The sound of someone singing, the sound of Ro-

Roman was dead. 

Of course. 

How could he have forgotten? 

“ _Don’t_ ,” a hiss startled Logan from his stupor, and he looked up to the sight of Remus holding his weapon at Patton, the silver glinting in the lamp-light. 

Patton held up his hands, another cloth in one, smiling. “Its okay kiddo, I just wanted to help clean up your hair and-” 

“I don’t want your help!” Remus shouted, shoving himself up into Patton’s face, eyes wild. “Leave me alone, all of you-” he waved his arms at the group, chest heaving. With a growl he turned on his heel and stalked away, slamming his morning-star into the wall as he walked and leaving behind broken plaster. He stomped his way upstairs, to his room, and closed the door with a final slam; ending the conversation. 

Patton swallowed, like he was swallowing a rock. A smile carved into his face and he turned. “Guess I won’t be needing this anymore,” he hummed, but the sound was flat in Logan’s ears. He walked to the kitchen and disappeared again. 

The blanket of silence settled over the group once more, and Logan stared at the floor. There was nothing any of them could say. 

~~~

“-omas? Thomas? Dude, you there?” 

Thomas blinked, looking up at his screen. He was on a video call, Joan’s face staring back at him in concern. 

“Oh, um..” he eloquently mumbled, blinking a bit more. His head was foggy. He glanced at the time, staring at the little clock on the corner of his screen. How long was he sitting here for…?

“Are you okay?” Joan asked, their brows furrowed. Next to them, Talyn was eating something, nodding. “You kind of spaced out on us dude, like, other galaxy level,” Joan said, and Thomas shook his head a bit, rubbing his face. 

“Yeah I um… I’m fine,” he mumbled, voice lackluster. “Uh… what were we talking about again…?” he asked, glancing at the screen. 

Joan frowned. “The new episode, the one with the commercials- seriously are you okay?” They asked, giving Talyn a look. “You don’t look okay.”

Thomas opened his mouth, paused, and closed it. He… didn’t know what to say. “I’m fine,” he heard himself mumbled. “Just… tired. Really, guys, I’m fine…” he trailed off, eyes unfocused as he stared at the table. 

Talyn hummed a little. “Uh huh… maybe you should get some rest then, dude,” they said, voice carrying their concern through the computer speakers. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, we can call tomorrow- just message me when you wake up okay?” Joan asked, and Thomas nodded, rubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah, I will,” he sighed, attempting a smile despite the fact he could almost feel how flat it had fallen. 

The call ended and Thomas closed his laptop, resting his forehead on his arms, eyes closed. He was so _tired_ , he just… 

He didn’t know. 

With a sigh, he pushed himself up, standing and grabbing his computer and phone as he slowly made his way upstairs, plugging his phone in by his bed and sitting down. He eyed the closet, and after a couple of minutes silently went and changed into sweatpants and a shirt. 

Padding back downstairs, he checked the door was locked, turned the lights off, got a glass of water, and retired to his room again. 

He got under the covers, lights off, eyes closing. The room was silent. The room was dark. 

He opened his eyes, unable to sleep. Staring at the wall, the creator groaned slowly and grabbed his phone, scrolling through social media slowly. He went onto Instagram and tapped on the explore page, scrolling through suggested posts and videos and reels, screen bright in the dark room. 

Every time his eyes grew tired he set his phone down, only to realize he still couldn’t sleep. And thus the pattern repeated, up and down, open and closed, as the minutes ticked by. 

Soon it was 2am, and Thomas was still wide awake. He stared at a video of someone making cool soap, in the shapes of what he thought were succulents-? Then suddenly the world darkened, and his eyes finally closed. 

Thomas fell asleep, the video still playing in his hand, until his phone finally shut off at the lack of activity from the exhausted man. 

The next thing he knew, a voice was speaking- and someone was shaking him awake. 

“Thomas- fuck man, wake up,” a voice said, something shaking his shoulder. Thomas opened his bleary eyes to look up at a rather upset Joan, who had been the one shaking him. 

“Joan…?” He mumbled, looking at them in confusion, his vision blurred by the remnants of sleep. 

Joan pursed their lips. “You didn’t text me this morning,” they said, helping Thomas to sit up. “And you didn’t reply to any of mine or Talyn’s messages, so we came over to see if you were okay,” they said, and Thomas nodded, looking around for the shorter enby of the pair. 

“Talyn's downstairs making lunch,” Joan explained, still staring at Thomas with that worried look. 

“Oh,” Thomas mumbled, glancing at the time and pausing. It was 12:37 pm. He blinked. 

He slept in later than he thought…

Joan frowned at him. “Dude, what is going on with you?” They asked, and Thomas turned to look at his friend, mouth opening. 

There was a pause and Thomas closed his mouth, swallowing. His mind came up empty. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, voice coming up smaller than intended. 

Joan frowned. “..let’s get you some food,” they said, voice gentle. “Come on,” they stood up and held out a hand. 

Thomas took it, standing slowly. The pair made their way downstairs, unusually quiet as they walked. Thomas didn’t speak, his shoulders slumped and his eyes unusually dull, darkened by a strange heaviness that seemed to have sunk into his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preview: "Sorry..." "It's fine,..."


End file.
